Dead Man's Land by Jack Patterson (digital e reader .txt) 📕

“Right. So you would be—”

“Sheila Doleman, head of the Pacific Northwest for DHS.”

Waller wrinkled his forehead. “Department of Homeland Security? What’s this all about?”

“I was hoping you could tell me, Mr. Waller.” She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “You were the agent in the field chasing Vicente Prado—isn’t that correct?”

Waller nodded. “Yeah, but I still don’t understand what this has to do with DHS.”

“Just answer her questions,” Williams said.

“What I want to know is very simple. What did you learn about Vicente Prado while you were chasing him?”

Hampton leaned forward. “Hardly anything. By the time we got him in our vehicle, these two guys came out of nowhere and threatened to kill us if we didn’t hand him over to them.”

“And you relented to their demands?” she said.

Waller nudged Hampton with his leg under the table. “We didn’t have a choice, if we must be perfectly honest.”

“You must—both your futures depend on it.”

Waller cocked his head to one side. “I don’t understand what’s going on. Why the interest all of a sudden in some Cuban athlete who defected? We were told we were pursuing him because it fell into our jurisdiction.”

She flipped a few straggly tendrils off her shoulder with the back of her hand. “Technically, yes. It did fall into your jurisdiction, but I’m not here to make this some bureaucratic spitball fight. As long as I get the answers I am looking for, I don’t care who captures him or why.”

“So you know where he is?”

She nodded. “We think so. We believe he returned to Cuba.”

“That’s what we think too. It seems that was the kidnappers’ chief objective.”

She nodded and scribbled down a few notes. “What makes you think that?”

“That’s what they told us.”

She slammed her pen down on the table. “It would’ve been nice if you would’ve told me this up front.”

Waller threw his hands in the air. “We put that in our report. Did you even read it?”

She glared at him. “I read every last word of it. There’s a big difference between saying you—quote—‘think he’s headed back to Cuba’ and—quote—‘the assailants said they were taking him back to Cuba.’ Surely, you can see that.”

Hampton shrugged. “So, we’re not wordsmiths.”

She slammed a file down on the table and started to pace. “Perhaps you don’t understand what is at stake here.”

Waller sat up. “Perhaps you should tell us so we can understand. Otherwise, we’re groping around in the dark.”

She sighed. “What I’m about to tell you is classified and doesn’t leave this room. Got it?”

All three men nodded.

Thirty minutes later after she finished briefing them, she brushed her blonde hair out of her face. “Now, is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Hampton looked at Waller and nodded.

“We think The Seattle Times reporter Cal Murphy might know something,” Waller said.

“Was this the man who was with Prado when they escaped from the bus?” she asked.

Waller nodded. “That’s the one. He spent several hours running around with Prado, hiding from the kidnappers. Mr. Murphy called me not long after Prado was seized from our possession.”

“Did he say he knew anything?”

“He called wanting to talk to Prado. He was looking for something he could write about.”

Williams leaned back in his chair. “He and his editor called our office and wanted us to give him a statement.”

“You didn’t say anything, I hope,” she said.

Williams shook his head. “Nothing quotable. But I made sure they weren’t going to write anything. Not yet, anyway.”

She wagged her finger at him. “They better not. I’m holding you responsible if they blow this thing wide open. You all know what’s on the line now—and I suggest you do your best to make sure this remains a tight-lipped investigation.”

Waller squirmed in his chair and stood up. “Are we through? We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Doleman paused and nodded. “Just make sure you circle back with that journalist, Mr. Murphy. Maybe give him a few breadcrumbs and see if he knows anything else that might be helpful for us. Keep him chasing shadows. Who knows—he could be a useful asset for us down the road.”

CHAPTER 22

CAL TRIED TO WIPE the ridiculous grin off his face. It was the same look he wore every time he found out he was getting to travel someplace on the newspaper’s budget. Especially a place like Cuba. It had been on his bucket list for a while, though he preferred to see the place time had forgotten as a tourist rather than a snoopy journalist. But he wasn’t going to complain.

He walked into his house, found Kelly in the kitchen, and kissed her.

“Someone must have had a good day at work,” she said.

“After you’ve been chased by gunmen through the woods in the middle of the night, it’s safe to say that even taking Little League scores over the phone would be a marked improvement.” He entered the living room and swooped up Maddie.

“How was your day today, princess?” he said.

Maddie poked her lip out. “I got an owwie at the doctor.”

“Let me make it feel better,” Cal said before he kissed her thigh where a small Sesame Street Band-Aid was. “All better?”

She nodded. “Thanks, Daddy.”

He put her down and slumped into his favorite chair. The grin remained on his face.

Kelly settled down on the couch and stared at him.

“What?” he asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like that?” He mimicked her serious facial expression.

“Because I’m trying to find out what’s going on since you won’t come right out and tell me.”

Cal chuckled. “Okay, okay. I was going to wait until after we put Maddie to bed to discuss it, but I’ll tell you now.”

She put her hands over mouth. “Did that magazine call about a job?”

He waved her off. “No, no. Nothing that exciting, though I’m not sure I would take that job now anyway.”

“What are you talking about? That was your dream job.”

“Never mind. Look, the reason I’m so excited is that I